


Crumbs

by BumblebeeDean



Series: bunker things verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bunker Fic, Cas is mute, Dean's POV, Domestic Fluff, Fallen Castiel, Fallen! Cas, Gen, M/M, No British Men of Letters, Post Season 11, Post-Series, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 09:46:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BumblebeeDean/pseuds/BumblebeeDean
Summary: In which Dean learns new things about a newly human Castiel and a few new things about himself





	Crumbs

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoy this second fic for my bunker things verse! its a lot shorter than the last one but i wanted to write something simple for this next bit of dean and cas.

Dean is starting to learn many things about a newly human Cas.

 

One, he is the laziest ex-angel ever. It’s ridiculous the amount of time Dean spends on putting towels back on the rack, or the peanut butter back in the pantry after it’s been used or putting a toothbrush back in its holder because Cas refuses to do it himself. There’s always a collection of glasses, mugs and plates in his room that he piles high before he either eventually brings it into the kitchen or because Dean hates the sight of the ever growing tower and just does it himself. Sometimes, Cas will spend an hour in the shower. Dean suspects he’s just sitting in there because he doesn’t want to stand.

 

On one particular day, Dean walked into Cas’ room and finds his borrowed clothes littering the floor and Cas sitting at his desk in nothing but sweats. The line of his back curved as he leaned over, his posture completely relaxed. Cas’ skin is tanned, and he noticed a few freckles kissing his shoulders. He stared at Cas’ back and had wanted to reach out and touch it. To feel how soft. He’s seen Cas shirtless before but it disarming when it’s as normal as Cas being too lazy to put on a T-shirt after a shower. Instead, he just quietly cleaned up the laundry and left.

 

Lately, anything Cas does either frustrates Dean or pisses him off. All because Cas will walk into a room and do something innocuous and newly human, or he’ll stare ardently at Dean over a plate of food Dean made. Happy, because it tastes so good. He’ll smile because it doesn’t taste like molecules.

 

Then, there’s Cas leaving a trail of crumbs behind him like Hansel and Gretel or leaving his dirty socks lying around.

 

At first Dean gives him the benefit of the doubt because he’s newly human, he’s still dealing with it. The fact that he still doesn’t talk hasn’t helped. He knows he needs to be sensitive, that just because he’s eating and interacting doesn’t mean he’s completely okay. He knows he’s seen him walk out of his room, eyes red and sore from crying. He knows Cas doesn’t sleep every night because of the nightmares. There are days where Cas won’t even smile, no matter what stupid or silly thing Dean has said or done. There are days where he won’t leave his bed, he won’t write and he won’t eat.

 

Dean thinks he’s being patient but he finds himself losing it one day. Dean finds the counter a mess, the bathroom floor soaked and toothpaste smeared on the sink, he follows the trail of wreckage Cas has left behind into his room.

 

“Cas, what the fuck. You left every single room you’ve been in a damn mess.” He bangs into Cas’ room, probably shouldn’t have but he doesn’t care. Cas jumps where he is sitting at his desk eating his peanut butter sandwich, looking around to Dean. He’s naked from the waist up, wearing a pair of striped blue and navy boxers and his leg is hitched up, foot flat on the seat. His chin had been resting on the knee that’s pulled up.

 

His face is surprised, there’s peanut butter and crumbs on his cheek. His face changes quickly, a stormy look he directs to Dean, as if he didn’t do a damn thing to inconvenience Dean at all. As if to say _“Why are you yelling at me, Dean.”_ Dean replies even though he’s not even sure if that’s what Cas is even thinking.

 

“Look, Cas I get it. You’re used to just _being clean,_ and not being hungry, but maybe have some consideration and clean up after yourself a little.”

 

Cas’ eyes are now narrowing his eyes and he’s squaring his shoulders and looks at Dean. A challenge. Dean doesn’t even know what he’s thinking but he knows Cas isn’t going to speak. Cas’ shoulders look so soft again, his hair so messy, and the peanut butter on his cheek is so distracting, it makes Dean angry.

 

“I don’t know why I bother because it’s not like you’re gonna answer me!” He huffs and storms out of the room, slamming the door shut but not before calling out, “I’m not cleaning up your messes anymore, Cas!”

 

The fucked up part is that Dean doesn’t even really hate cleaning up after Cas, he just hates the mess in general and the fact that Cas just doesn’t get it. He likes that Cas is here, that he hasn’t left and he doesn’t seem like he is going to anytime soon. He likes seeing evidence of Cas left behind in every room. The more he does, the more it feels like home.

 

Why Dean is actually mad, why he can’t seem to keep his chill lately, is that he likes that Cas is a damn lazy human and can’t seem to grasp the concept of shared space. The more Cas makes himself at home, the more butterflies thrum inside his chest. He doesn’t understand why, so he lashes out like the repressed dickhead that he is. He always regrets it later but he doesn’t stop himself.

 

The fact that this is possibly the biggest fight they’ve had in a long time really says a lot about the status of their lives lately. It’s been quiet, they haven’t even taken any hunts. They spend the next week blatantly ignoring each other. Dean still makes food, they eat at the table most days and Cas still comes out to eat but he purposefully ignores anything said by Dean. Sam has to deal with being in the middle and rolls his eyes constantly.

 

Dean notices that he’s been texting a lot lately too, and smirking after but he doesn’t really question him because he’s so determined to send glares at Cas. To will him into turning to look and then make it seem like he’s not thinking constantly about him.

 

Cas is just as stubborn though, he sits idly at the table, head is turned away or down and his trademark resting bitch face in place. He’ll listen, face open and interested when Sam’s talking to him but when it’s quiet or Dean starts to talk, his face immediately goes right back into determined stone. Dean hates the cliché “if looks could kill” but if looks could kill, _Cas could definitely kill_.

 

Half way through a spoonful of the beef stew he made, glaring at Cas across the table, who is still ignoring him and sipping on his glass of fruity ice tea. Dean realizes all at once, like a wave of cold water that he’s fucking _in love_ with Cas. Shit.

 

He wouldn’t be putting in this much effort to get his attention if he wasn’t such a damn slut for Cas. It explains his behavior, why he’s acting like ten year old boy with a crush, pulling Cas’ metaphorical pigtails to deflect. Like making underhanded douchey remarks when Cas happens to clean up a little after something instead of putting it off for later. What an _asshole_.

 

He realizes he wants to just take care of Cas, give him a home. Wants him to be happy, to smile and take him on road trips, watch him eat and sleep, all that romantic shit.

 

He wants to hold Cas after a nightmare, wipe his tears away. He would go to the farmer’s market and hold his hand. He wants to take him out in Baby and look at the stars until dawn. God, he wants to do _more_ than that.

 

Jesus Christ, he wants to kiss him. He wants to touch his skin, to explore every inch of soft skin. He’d really like to lay him out on any surface and do all of a manner of dirty things to Cas and watch every new expression he can bring to his face. He wants to see ecstasy and pleasure ripple through Cas. For him to shiver under his touch.

 

He’s realizes felt this way for a long time but it’s never been this quiet, this calm. He never been able to properly dwell on it, on getting this or wanting to. He stopped thinking it was possible for him. Denial too.

 

He’s so into him. It scares him. His heart is hammering in his chest, head starts pounding at the realization. He’s panicking, because what’s he supposed to do with this this “epiphany”? He’s definitely not going to say or do anything about it, it could ruin everything. Cas could leave.

Gulping, he looks up as Cas is taking in a spoonful of stew, he watches his face. He catches a glimpse of a moment where Cas’ façade of determined emotionlessness fades. A moment where Cas just looks sad. An expression that Dean is responsible for.

 

He abruptly gets up, the chair shrieking loudly as it’s pushed out. It startles Sam and Cas and they both jump. Cas finally looks over at Dean, the expression of surprise and concern. Mouth open, his lips forming an “o”, the first real expression he gets from Cas since he shouted at him. Dean’s hands are shaking, clenched, knuckles going white. He leaves the table abruptly and walks off. Ignoring Sam’s calls wondering what’s wrong and hears Sam say aloud, “What the hell is his problem?”

 

Dean goes to the car port, gets in Baby and sits quietly for a few minutes before groaning loudly, dropping his head onto the steering wheel. A long beep of the horn sounds and several following staccato honks sound out as he pounds his forehead on the horn.

 

“Get…it…together…Winchester.” He rests his head one final time and sighs, cheeks blowing out.

 

Moments later, he hears the passenger side door open and a body sit next to him. He doesn’t even bother looking over, he knows it's probably just Sam about to bitch about whatever his glitch is.

 

“I’m fine, Sammy. You don’t have to check on me.” Sam doesn’t say anything so he groans and looks over.

 

“Sam, can I get some spac-“, He shuts up immediately when he realizes it’s not Sam sitting next to him, but Cas. Cas is looking at him finally, his eyes somber. There’s a whole list of things said but unsaid lingering in the air.

 

_What’s wrong? Talk to me. I’m sorry._

 

“‘M Sorry Cas.” Dean’s voice is quiet, strained. He’s literally the worst. Imagine being an angel and falling, all because you helped some stupid human who’s not even worth a damn and they just take it out on you because you’re getting use to the mechanics of being human, because said human has a major boner for you and can’t even bring himself to say it because he’s a coward, monster hunter or not. Metaphorically flipped off the Devil himself and still can’t talk about his _feelings._

 

He leans back, eyes closed, and slouches back, his head resting back against the top of the Impala’s front seat. “Cas, I don’t even know why I got so mad about the mess, I don’t even care that you’re messy okay. I didn’t handle it well and I’m sorry.” Lie, he knows why he got mad but he can’t say that.

 

Cas’ hand comes up and rests on his shoulder, his thumb stroking softly. Dean opens his eyes and looks over to find Cas’ eyes. They’re the same blue they’ve always been and his face is open, kind. Dean looks at him and he knows he’s forgiven him, knows that he’s not mad anymore and he understands. He drops his hand and lets it fall to the seat between them, close to where Dean’s hand also lays. He leans back against the seat and still looking over at Dean.

 

They stay like this for what feels like a while, in companionable silence. Dean doesn’t feel himself squirm from the prolonged eye contact, and he doesn’t look away. Cas is smiling, it’s simple, sweet. Dean hasn’t said anything, even though he definitely should, Cas deserves more than that. Instead, before overthinking it, he slides his hand over, palm turned up and interlocks his fingers with Cas’.

 

Cas’ face is surprised and he looks down, his eyes grow wider, questioning. Dean feels his neck and ears burn. He clears his throat, “Dude, just…don’t overthink it.”

 

Cas nods and squeezes Dean’s hand. He leans his head back, closes his eyes and Dean does the same.

 

Later, after they’ve both fallen asleep, Sam sneaks in and slams his hand on the horn and wakes them up. He has his phone out as he films, as he laughs his ass off.

**Author's Note:**

> i really enjoy writing in dean's perspective here! his voice to me is the easiest to capture. i think its because i always feel like i have so much in common with dean. 
> 
> the next fic i'm working on is going to deal with cas trying many new things. i can't wait to get started on it.
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this,  
> thank you for reading!!!  
> once again beta'd by my [friend](http://archiveofourown.org/users/larrykingsdecapitatedhead/profile)


End file.
